arply demanded of Gavegan.

"Don't like to make any unpleasant scene, Miss Sherwood, but I've gotta
tell you that this so-called Brandon is a well-known crook." Gavegan
enjoyed few things more than astounding people with unpleasant facts.
"His real name is Brainard; he's done time, and now he's wanted by the
New York police for a tough job he pulled."

"I knew all that long ago," said Miss Sherwood.

"Eh--what?" stammered Gavegan.

"Mr. Brainard told me all that the first time I saw him."

"Hello, Gavegan," said Hunt, stepping forward.

"Well, I'll be--if you ain't that crazy--" Again the ability to express
himself coherently and with restraint failed Gavegan. "If you ain't that
painter that lived down at the Duchess's!"

"Right, Gavegan--as a detective always should be. And Larry Brainard was
then, and is now, my friend."

Miss Sherwood again spoke up sharply. "Mr. Gavegan--if that is your
name--you will please take those foolish things off Mr. Brainard's
wrists."

Gavegan had been cheated out of creating a sensation. That discomfiture
perhaps made him even more dogged than he was by nature.

"Sorry, Miss, but he's charged with having committed a crime and is a
fugitive from justice, and I can't."

"I'll be his security. Take them off."

"Sorry to refuse you again, Miss. But he's a dangerous man--got away
once before. My orders is to take no risks that'll give him another
chance for a get-away."

Miss Sherwood turned to Larry. "I'll go into town with you, and so will
Mr. Hunt. I'll see that you get bail and a good lawyer."

"Thank you, Miss Sherwood," Larry said. "Gavegan, I guess we're ready to
start."

"Not just yet, Brainard. Sorry, Miss Sherwood, but we've got a search
warrant for your place. We just want to have a look at the room Brainard
used. No telling what kind of crooked stuff he's been up to. And to make
the search warrant O.K. I had it issued in this county and brought along
a county officer to serve it. Show it to the lady, Smith."

"I have no desire to see it, Mr. Gavegan. I have more interest in
watching you while you go through my things." And giving Gavegan a look
which made an unaccustomed flush run up that officer's thick neck and
redden his square face, she led the way into Larry's study. "This is
the room where Mr. Brainard works," she said. "Through that door is his
bedroom. Everything here except his clothing is my property. I shall
hold you rigidly responsible for any disord